


Honesty

by Erinya



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-14
Updated: 2008-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erinya/pseuds/Erinya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Norrington decides to stop lying to himself.  Written for Porn Battle V.  Prompt:  James/Elizabeth/Jack, lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honesty

There are many lies James Norrington tells himself: that he never considered Tortuga as a likely place to run across Jack Sparrow, for example. That he decided to sail under Sparrow's command only because he's biding his time until he can see the man hanged, for another. That the fevered, tortuously erotic dreams of kohl-lined dark eyes, of tarry-nailed fingers grasping his hips, of sun-warm, sun-dark skin under his hands, of the puckered texture of the "P" brand traced by his lips and tongue--that these unconscionable dreams are nothing but the delirium of a drink-addled mind, more torment for a sinner. That the dreams of Elizabeth Swann dressed like a midshipman--half-dressed, really, breeches down around her ankles as she kisses the gunner's daughter, long white legs spread and her cunny as red as her coat--are nothing but the same.

It's not that he wants that, any of it. Not really. A man can't help but sin in thought if not in deed, and certainly can't help the wild phantasies his sleeping mind devises.

So he thinks he must have stumbled into a new variation of those dreams when, halfway down the hatchway to the lower hold, he hears an unmistakably feminine moan, and sees, half-concealed in shadow--

Elizabeth's golden head dropped back against the bulkhead, her eyes shut tight, lips parted, small perfect breasts spilling out of her man's shirt.

Jack's hands holding her firmly in place, his head buried between her legs, his own shirt tossed aside in a heap, the old scars on his back from the lash acquiring new fine red lines from Elizabeth's nails as she grips his shoulders, hard.

Suddenly Jack stands, capturing Elizabeth's mouth in a deep and hungry kiss and thrusting up into her, hard, his breeches slipping down past his hips to reveal his slender buttocks, which are only a little less tan than the rest of him. Elizabeth's hands close over them, pulling him against her; she moans again, wanton as a Tortuga doxy, and Jack hooks one arm under a lily-white knee and slaps the other hand over her mouth to muffle her rising cries, although the rhythmic slick-wet noises and the dull thump of their combined weight against the hull as he fucks her would leave no listener to question what they were doing.

James realizes that they must have done this before; the act to which he has become the unwilling witness is not that of two new lovers, and Elizabeth's responses to Jack's ungentle movements are certainly not those of a blushing virgin.

He thinks he must have made a sound of his own, for both figures go still abruptly, although they do not break apart even a centimeter; Elizabeth's eyes are wide, and Jack's are black as sin. James, caught by their twinned gaze, stands frozen, mute, his erection straining against his breeches, unable to look away.

And then, as one, Jack and Elizabeth smile; slow, wicked, predatory. Elizabeth licks her lips with a small pink tongue like a cat's, and Jack's glance rakes James up and down, lascivious, pointedly pausing at the level of James' crotch.

"Come to join us, then, James darling?" Jack says, lazy and velvet-voiced.

"Oh, please do," Elizabeth adds, huskily.

"We promise to make it worth your while, mate."

"And whatever else one might say about Jack, I assure you he doesn't make that sort of promise lightly."

They stretch out their hands to him, and he takes the final steps down without bothering to think of a lie to tell himself.

He doesn't believe himself, anyway.

Elizabeth sinks to her knees, clever fingers making short work of his belt and buttons before her mouth slides hot like hell and sweet like heaven over the head of his cock; Jack molds his body against James' back, murmuring filthy suggestions to both of them, his lips brushing James' ear and trailing down the stubbled line of James' neck, his own cock still sticky-slick with Elizabeth's juices and pressing hard and insistent between James' buttocks.

Honesty may be, after all, the best policy.

"Please," James Norrington says, and surrenders himself into the hands of pirates.


End file.
